


Alpha Omega

by Ponddipper



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Alpha Camille, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, F/M, Implied Mpreg, Omega Richard, Panic Attacks, Soul-Searching, sort of sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23773519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponddipper/pseuds/Ponddipper
Summary: At least the Doctor hadn’t laughed at him, or tried to fob him off with painkillers and a condescending smile when Richard had haltingly tried to explain the problem.  Instead the Beta medic pulled on a pair of latex gloves and asked him to roll up his sleeve.
Relationships: Camille Bordey/Richard Poole
Comments: 31
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!  
> Someone suggested that the DIP universe needed more smut. So I tried but Richard didn't feel comfortable with THAT kind of language and refused to co=operate until I toned it down a bit. This is the result. It isn't finished yet but I do have a plan and I know where we're headed. I think there will be three parts but because I am such a slow writer who has to write a bout a million drafts on paper then another fifty thousand on the computer I wanted to get something posted to push myself to stop playing and get this done.  
> I'd be terribly grateful for some feedback as I haven't written A/b/o before, and as it is new to this fandom if anything doesn't make sense let me know so I can rectify it.  
> Fingers crossed this is a fun and heart-warming story about misunderstandings and fears being put to rest int he end.  
> Enjoy!

**Alpha Omega**

**(Working Title)**

Richard sat in the empty waiting room trying not to be sick. He’d had a lot of practice lately. Even though he hadn’t eaten anything all day his stomach still grumbled and griped as if about to expel some unwanted contents.  
Loosening his tie and popping open the top button beneath for good measure, a sigh of relief passed his lips as cool air brushed against his throat. The surgery was blessedly air-conditioned but sweat still trickled down his spine, soaking his shirt and causing it to cling wetly to his skin.  
The jacket stayed on however, the heavy wool blend helping mask his anxious Omegan scent.

With a heavy sigh, Richard shifted against the hard plastic chair, attempting to stretch the aches from his throbbing joints.   
He just felt so tired, wanting to go home and sleep for a week. But instead he was sat here waiting for Doctor Johnson to call him back in. If he hadn’t passed out at his desk before lunch Richard wouldn’t be here but, even he knew when something couldn’t be ignored any longer.  
It was good of the Doctor to see him out of hours like this. If the island grapevine got wind of his condition the news would spread like wildfire and everyone and her mother would be fussing over him, sticking their oar in.  
Not to mention he’d have to tell Camille.

Gazing around the room in a bid to distract himself, Richard found tears prickling at his eyes when he saw the posters and notices on the wall. Would this be his life now? Endless hours spent in waiting rooms; ante-natal clinics, midwife appointments and ultrasound scans? Could he look forward to swollen ankles, constant backache and bizarre cravings plaguing him through interminable sleepless nights? Oh God! He’d grow breasts! Huge, pendulous sacs leaking milk like some humanoid cow as he waddled around unable to see his feet over his fat belly, everyone fussing and telling him to rest, to be careful because of the baby, treating him like a child.  
**_If_** the test was positive, he scolded himself. Right now, he clung to those two letters like a life raft in a stormy sea. He couldn’t let himself get carried away with every horrific possibility he could imagine.  
‘You’re a man of science.’ He grumbled, rubbing one hand over his cramping stomach to ease yet another wave of pain. ‘You gather evidence then draw _logical_ conclusions. You **do not** give in to _feelings_.’

He had always refused to cede to his biology and be a weak and emotional Omega. It was one of the biggest disappointments of his life (not to mention his fathers) when Richard presented as the weakest of the secondary genders while at University. Naturally quiet and reserved, when combined with an Omegas submissiveness Richard became a constant target for manipulation, bullying and being taken advantage of. It was one of the reasons he went on Suppressants, the modern miracle of medicine that smoothed out the peaks and troughs of his fertility cycle and rendered him virtually barren.  
That and the fact his first, his only, girlfriend had bed, mated and claimed his best friend instead because James “was more fun.”

At least Doctor Johnson hadn’t laughed at him or tried to fob him off with painkillers and a condescending smile. When Richard had haltingly explained his suspicions the Beta medic just pulled on a pair of latex gloves and asked him to roll up his sleeve.  
  
‘Let us see what is going on, yes?’ He’d smiled while stabbing a viciously sharp needle in Richards arm. ‘Then we can decide what to do.’

It was much less traumatic peeing on the stick.

To his surprise, Richard had then been told to wait here for his results. Apparently, the surgery had onsite facilities for analysing blood samples and the like, a fact he was more than happy to learn. He needed answers, the sooner the better.  
  
Had this been London he would have waited anything from 5 to 10 days for the results and another two weeks or longer for an appointment to discuss them with a Doctor. On Saint Marie, he was assured, it would take about an hour.  
  
Mind you, Richard sighed sitting up straighter in his chair again, his bladder feeling uncomfortably full, had this been London, he wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place.

Because in London his case would not have gone missing at the airport and he wouldn’t have been left without the medication that held back the tide of lust and desperate need that overtook an Omega in heat.  
Yes, if this had been London, he wouldn’t have entered his first heat in 20 years and wouldn’t now be anxiously waiting to see if he carried his and Camille’s pup.


	2. Chapter 2

Richard shut his eyes, an all too familiar warmth spreading outwards from his groin as his mind wandered back to that day. He’d been in the shower, desperately fingering his mating hole in a bid to ease the hollow ache between his legs, his body flushed and aching with need when Camille walked in.  


He’d whined, unable to stop his hand movements, even when she growled at him. The low feral sound she made echoed off the tiled walls of the bathroom and he had turned to jelly, almost falling as his knees gave way. But Camille had grabbed him, wrapped her arms around him from behind and pulled him into her chest, nuzzling behind his ear with the tip of her nose.  


‘Richard?’ She purred, setting off shivers along his spine as the words blew gently across his ear. ‘Do you need a little help?’

It felt so good. Even now Richards heart gave a happy little flutter at the sensation of being safe, feeling so protected in her embrace. As he sat in the waiting room, his face grew hot, the memory of what happened next so clear in his mind even now, two months on.

Maybe it had been his heat, or Camille’s musky Alpha pheromones, perhaps too much time in the sun. He didn’t know. But something stripped the usually reserved and introverted man from his inhibitions to let loose a wildness he had never known. Shamelessly he ground his backside into Camille’s hips, begging with both body and mouth for her to take him, to breed him, to give him her knot.

Both Male Omegas like Richard and Female Alphas like Camille are intersex, i.e. they possess both male and female sexual organs. Alphas are always well-endowed, even the females whose phallus remains internal until she is sufficiently aroused when it swells and descends ready to lay her eggs into her, hopefully willing, partner. A small sac of skin at the base inflates just before orgasm, tying the pair together to ensure the greatest chance of breeding success. Richards own phallic appendage is small, barely four inches when fully hard and lacking this ‘knot’, but his mating canal is long and supple enough to take an Alphas much larger organ. Theoretically both Alphas and Omegas can fall pregnant, depending on who takes who as Alpha females have a short canal. But most often the Omega carries the babies while the Alpha provides protection and care.

A dribble of slick, the body’s own lubricant, seeped into Richards underwear as he recalled the way Camille had stripped off in front of him the day of his heat. She had been so unashamed of her body, not that there was anything to be ashamed of. He’d always admired her. She was beautiful, smart, funny and kind and he had often regretted not paying more attention on the day he arrested her in that ridiculous blue bikini. He’d had a golden opportunity to ogle but had passed it up, his innate manners refusing to let him stare at the goddess stood before him.   
He always looked beyond the surface of a person, more interested in the character beneath than the often-misleading persona they tried to project.  


But as Camille had peeled off her few layers at the foot of his bed that morning, he had let himself trace every inch of her body with his eyes. Every scar, imperfection and line of her skin was available to be seen and he greedily looked his fill.  
  
Another pulse of slick trickled out behind his balls as he thought about the way Camille had climbed upon the bed, crawling towards him and rearranging the pillows and sheets into a comfy nest for him to lay. She was so kind, so gentle and tears sprang to his eyes as he remembered that feeling of love.  


Feeling dizzy and too hot, Richard opened another button of his shirt, opening his jacket too but not removing it. His boxers felt damp, a faint sweet scent of slick surrounding him as his mind continued to replay the second only sexual encounter of his life.  


How Camille had parted his legs with one hand, the other sliding up to take his tiny shaft between her fingers and stroke it back and forth. He had gushed so much slick the sheets were soaked, the sweet sticky fluid spreading in a puddle under his bum. She had checked, checked and rechecked that he was sure, that he really wanted this from her as her hands roamed freely over his flushed and burning skin.  


The pain of heat had been intense, his internal organs rearranging themselves in preparation to mate, creating room for his womb to grow, to fill with a child and bring new life to the world. He had writhed and wriggled, his head clouded by lust and need as he begged Camille, again and again, to take him, to make him hers.   


When she finally breached him, it had been incredible. His only other time had been with Sasha at Uni and he had thought nothing would ever compare. Until this moment with Camille. Her shaft was long, thick and warm, his hole shuddering even now as he remembered the delicious stretch of long-disused muscles coming to life under her spell.   


‘Merde! Richard, ‘She had growled, slowly pressing deeper inside. ‘So tight. So _good_.’

He had wondered if his heart might stop, it’s hammering so fierce he could feel it in his throat. The feeling of being full, being complete at last was heady, tears springing to his eyes, unable to convey how good he felt. Camille had kissed them away, lips so soft and gentle as they landed against his skin. Every push and pull brought her deeper, brought them closer and drove out the emptiness he hadn’t known he’d been carrying all this time. 

There was no her, no him. Only them, joined as one in a timeless dance, a beautiful embrace.  


He had let himself go in that moment, as she reached parts of him no one else ever had. Wrapping his legs around her waist, Richard pulled her in to the hilt, never wanting to let go as stars burst behind his eyelids and the breath was stolen from his lungs.   


When Camille finished a few moments later she sank her teeth deep into his chest, leaving an oval cluster of tiny scars right over his heart.


	3. Chapter 3

To his eternal shame, he had no idea if Camille had worn protection that day or used any other kind of birth control. Thankfully the Doctor hadn’t pursued that line of enquiry either because Richard wasn’t sure he’d survive the ignominy of having to admit he’d been so addled by lust he neither noticed nor cared.  


But he cared now. Now there was a very real chance he was carrying the rapidly multiplying cellular consequences of that passion-filled encounter.

One hand on his belly, Richard looked out the window towards the town square. What if the test confirmed it? What did he do then? Did he stay here on Saint Marie, forever reminded of what he did not have, or go back to the UK and try to start again? It would be good to have his Mum around for support and God knows he’d need help with this. As a fellow Omega hopefully she might understand, even if her views on family remain firmly in the traditional no sex before bonding camp.  


And what about Camille? Would she want to be a part of this too?

Richards thumb stroked slowly over the scar she left on his chest two months ago. It was clear she hadn’t wanted to bond with him, to have him as her mate. If she had, she would have bitten much higher, at the juncture of neck and shoulder, right over his upper scent gland. The exchange of saliva between mates provides the bond, their scents forever changed and marking each other as theirs. He had always dreamt of finding someone, Alpha Beta or Omega, who might want to make him their own, Camille the closest anyone had come to filling that hole in his life.  


Yet clearly she wasn’t interested in that. He was just a colleague to her, maybe just a friend. He had been nothing to her that day, other than another needy Omega hole to fill, a place to pop her knot.

A sharp tight pain suddenly shot across his chest, doubling Richard over in pain. He tried to take deep, measured breaths but it was a great effort to force his muscles to move.

What did he do now? There wasn’t a desk job to move to like in London, and he could hardly carry on working cases while bearing a child. And what about after the birth? Yes, over the years he had encountered other Omegas who managed to balance a career with bringing up a family but usually they had their partners there for support, or at least family close by.

And he wasn’t exactly the maternal type either, was he? Baby Rosie threw up on him the first few times he held her and even now she never settled well in his arms.

A tight band of pain squeezed around Richards skull forcing him to screw his eyes shut. Babies were so small, delicate little things so easily harmed or damaged beyond repair. He didn’t know what to do with them, or how to hold them without causing pain. What if he dropped it? Caused serious injury or left it permanently brain-damaged or even dead?  


And his age! He was 42 for Christ sake. Wasn’t he more likely to cause defects, deformities or disabilities having a child at his time of life?  


Richard gulped in sharp breaths as the room began to sway around him, the muscles around his ribs somehow paralysed as he fought to drag in air. Hands claw-like now with cramps, struggled to free him of his tie and jacket as black spots peppered his vision and he felt faint. Was this a heart attack? His body crumbling under the strain? He tried to shout, to call for help but could only gurgle as his tongue felt too big for his mouth. Oh God, he was going to die! Die in the Doctors waiting room, alone, afraid and unable to…  
  
‘INSPECTOR!’

Two cool hands took hold of his cheeks, pulling Richard head upwards as he forced open his eyes. Doctor Johnson knelt before him on the floor, eyes darting back and forth across the shaking man.  
  
‘Inspector. I have your results. Can you follow me?’


	4. Chapter 4

‘So, what did Doctor Johnson say?’ Camille asked, spearing a piece of chicken with her fork. ‘Do you need further tests or was it just something you ate?’

Having walked home after leaving the surgery, needing the time and space to think upon the Doctors words, Richard had been surprised, and a little annoyed, to find Camille in his kitchen making them both dinner.

‘You haven’t been well this past week and I needed to make sure you were eating properly.’

That had been Camille's reply when he asked what the hell did she think she was doing.

‘One look in your fridge proves you haven’t. All those ready meals! All that junk!’ She shook her head. ‘Do you even know what a vegetable is?’

A wave of fatigue had hit him then and Richard couldn’t be bothered to argue. He hoped that if he just ate the damn food, some kind of chicken salad by the looks of things, then Camille might just bugger off and leave him in peace.  


Picking at the plate before him, appetite all but gone after two mouthfuls, Richard replayed the Doctors diagnosis over and over in his mind. Had he misheard? Or maybe got it wrong, missed some little detail in his anxious state?  
  
‘You’re not pregnant Inspector so no need to worry there.’ Johnson said, a carefully blank expression on his face, as if he wasn’t sure this was the news Richard had been hoping for.   
‘But you are suffering from quite a pronounced hormonal imbalance. In fact, your levels are all over the place.’  


The poor man had paled when he found out Richard hadn’t had a break from the suppressants in twenty years. That he hadn’t ever taken the biannual breaks from the medication as recommended.  
Apart from the enforced one when the pills went missing two months ago.  
  
‘Oh no. No no no no no, Inspector. This will not do! You must take a break immediately. If you do not, you risk becoming quite ill. You might never bear children at all if you carry on like this.’

Did he want children, Richard thought, poking at the lettuce with the tines of his fork. Did he _want_ to raise a family? Before coming to Saint Marie, he would almost certainly have said no. But then he met Camille and things changed. Finally, he’d found someone he could let his guard down with, who he thought he could learn to trust. 

And then he went into heat. Ever since that day he had been beset by dreams, his mind wandering in idle moments to thoughts of what it might be like to be a Dad. To have a couple of children with her.  


There were always two, his own lonely childhood no doubt influencing that decision. One boy, one girl, each with curly hair and caramel-coloured skin. His own deep green eyes would smile back from infectiously happy faces as they raced across the sand to show him their treasures, a precious seashell or pebbled glass clutched so carefully in their hands. They would demand to sit in his lap as he helped them identify their finds from a reference book or online, snuggling close as they spent special time with their Dad.  


Of course, Camille would be there too, just as happy, her smile making his belly flutter the way it always does as she teased him for not joining them, or flicked sand onto his toes.

But as he sent his salad on yet another circuit of the plate, Richard knew that this would never be. Camille didn’t want him like that, didn’t want him to be her mate. Because if she had she would have put her teeth into his neck instead of his chest.

No, as nice as the little fantasy was, that is all it would remain. A dream, an illusion, a mirage. He was better off alone.

‘Richard? Are you even listening to me?’ 

The annoyed tone of Camille’s voice punctured Richards wandering thoughts, dragging him back to the here and now.  
  
‘What did the Doctor Say?’

Her tone was level, calm, polite but Richard had had enough of her fussing and just flipped.  
  
‘What the _hell_ has it got to do with you?’ He snapped, throwing his cutlery onto his half-full plate with an almighty bang. 

‘You stick your knot in me once and you think it gives you the right to poke your nose into every bit of my life as well. Well I’ve got news for you lady. I’m just fine. I’m fine on my own. Always was, always will be!’

‘Richard, I...’ Camille looked stunned, her eyes wide and mouth open.

He shot to his feet, skin tight with the anger burning in his veins. He felt trapped here, suffocated by her stare.  
  
‘What! Come on, Camille spit it out. Why not just growl and get the cute little Omega to bend over for you hmm? That’s what you want, isn’t it? I’m nothing to you but a hole to be filled!’  
  
‘No! Richard, please! I just want to…’  
  
‘You come here, trying to interfere. You fuss and meddle, don’t believe that I can cope on my own.’ 

He could feel his eyes burning with unshed tears, his chest heaving with the need for oxygen as adrenaline raced through his blood.

‘I didn’t _ask_ you to come here, Camille. I didn’t _ask_ you to cook. I don’t _ask_ you to come round here and spend your time with boring old me!’

The tears fell over the edge, trickling down his cheeks to drip from his chin

‘Why can’t you leave me alone? Why can’t everyone just LEAVE ME ALONE!’

One-handed he picked up the half-finished plate of food and hurled it forcibly against the wall, the ensuing silence broken only by his footsteps across the wooden deck as he walked away.


	5. Chapter 5

Richard leant against the veranda rail, one shaky hand scrubbing over his face as he looked out to sea. It had started already, the sudden and unexpected mood swings Doctor Johnson had warned him about as his body tried to find a new hormone normal. One minute he’d just been tired, his mind wandering, and the next he was exploding at Camille. It wasn’t like him. He didn’t like her fussing but he was never violent about it.

It scared him, how easily he’d just blown up like that. A shiver ran down his spine as he recalled the sudden surge of anger, the hot fire that charged through his veins. What if it happened at work? With a victim? With a suspect? He’d lose his job, lose the career that he had spent so many years devoting his life to because there was nothing else. And he would have to leave.

That hurt as much as the pains in his belly, the thought that he might have to leave the Island, the life he had so reluctantly built here among those he could now call friends.

He should apologise to Camille. As much as he hated being fussed over, she didn’t deserve to be treated like that. It wasn’t _her_ fault that he was Omega. It wasn’t _her_ fault that he had gone into heat. And if anybody had to find him as she had, he was glad it was her. She hadn’t said anything about it, didn’t make fun of him for his lack of control. If he’d still been at Croydon then nobody would have come round to check on him when he didn’t show up for work, and they certainly wouldn’t have agreed to look after his semi-pet lizard while he went abroad for a week.

No none of this was Camille’s fault. He only had himself to blame.

The creak of wood and a waft of flowery perfume alerted Richard to Camille’s presence and he slowly turned his head towards her. 

‘I’m sorry.’ He sighed, taking in the way her hands were held out before her, her head cocked to one side, as of she were approaching a wild animal that could bite at any time.

In a strange sort of way, she was.

‘It’s okay.’ 

She took a few tentative steps towards him, but not getting too close. Leaving him room to flee. 

‘I’m not trying to be nosy, Richard, or trying to interfere, I promise. I’m just worried about you. I want to help because I care.’

Richard snorted, an instinctive reaction rather than a conscious one.

‘You don’t have to care about me.’ He said, arms curled protectively around his waist as he looked out to sea. ‘Nobody else does.’

‘That’s not true Richard.’ Said Camille, coming to stand right beside him, the warmth of her skin seeping through the cotton of his shirt. _‘I_ care.’

‘I don’t know why!’ He snorted, eyes still fixed on the horizon as he spoke. ‘My only girlfriend claimed someone else because I was no fun and even my parents sent me away as quick as they could.’

He turned to face her, eyes blurry from the wash of tears that trickled down his face. He was too exhausted to bother wiping them away anymore. He just wanted to sleep, to wake up tomorrow and find this was all a bloody bad dream. 

Except it wasn’t and he would probably wake up with a raging headache and the lonely feeling still lodged deep within his heart.

‘I was seven went I went to my first boarding school. Did you know that? I was only seven and they sent me away.’

‘Oh, Richard! That’s awful.’

Camille pulled him into her arms, his head resting against the crook of her neck.

‘And you’re wrong.’ She said, stroking wide slow circles across his back. ‘Because I _**do**_ care about you. I _**love**_ you, Richard, so much sometimes it actually hurts. When I see you in pain, or sad, or so lost in that great head of yours I just want to wrap my arms around you and never let you go.’

He looked up at her then, trying to blink away the watery haze in his eyes. She looked so earnest, so truthful in what she said, a little flicker of hope began to come to life in his chest.

‘I spent every night here you know, while you were away? It’s so peaceful, so quiet. It gave me time to think.’

‘About?’

Camille huffed, a small smile curling the edge of her lips as she let her hands fall to her sides.

‘Oh, this and that.’ She shrugged. ‘You and me. What I wanted life to be.’

Dragging one hand through her hair, she turned back to face him with a determined set to her jaw.

‘I realised I want a change, Richard. I’m fed up with the way things are in my life and I need to man up and do something before it’s too late.’

Panic began to grow in his stomach, Sasha’s words of rejection coming back to haunt him as Camille’s eyes met his own. Was she leaving? Had _she_ found someone else more fun too? Was he less irritating? Better looking or better in bed?

She took his hands in hers, making sure his eyes were focussed fully on hers.

‘I know things have been a little odd between us since your heat Richard, but I mean it when I say I love you. You’re my best friend, the one I want to spend my days _and_ nights with. The one I want to grow old and grey with. It’s why I never claimed you during your heat. Because I wanted to be sure you felt the same. That you wanted me too.’

Richard felt his jaw drop, the salty tears suddenly diverting into his mouth, but he didn’t care. Was this strong, feisty, confident Alpha really scared _he_ might reject _her?_

‘You…you want… _me_?’ 

Camille nodded, biting her lip as she began to smile.

‘I missed you so much while you were away. It was like a physical ache. I came here at night and felt calmer, closer to you somehow even though there was barely a trace of you left behind. It was when I realised, I wanted to court you, to do things properly and make you mine.’

She cradled his cheek with one hand, wiping the streaming tears away with her thumb.

‘It’s why I bought the clothes for you? It was going to be my first courtship gift.’

His cheeks grew warm with a flush of guilt as thought about the bag of short-sleeved shirts and lightweight trousers that languished in the back of the wardrobe, never seeing the light of day after he discovered Camille had not given him a claiming bite. 

‘You’re not exactly a hearts and roses kind of man, are you?’ Camille teased, slipping her hand down to cup the back of his head.

‘But I knew, even if you didn’t want me, they would still be of use. I never expected to walk in and find you… like _that_.’

The yellow bulbs of the veranda lights revealed Camille’s blush as a slightly darker hue around her cheeks, Richards own blush spreading outwards at the reminder of their passionate escapade.

‘When I walked in and found you,‘ Camille sighed, ‘in pain, alone and so needy… well, I couldn’t walk away. I just had to help. I’m glad I always carry protection, not that I use it, but I knew that I could help you without there being unwanted consequences.’

Suddenly she went still, her eyes almost growing impossibly wide.

‘Oh my God! The sickness, the mood swings. You’ve been looking so pale and you’ve been so tired too. Is that why you went to the Doctors? Did you think maybe you were…?’

Richard could only nod, another barrage of tears flowing unbidden down his face. He curled into himself, arms crossing over his belly, suddenly overcome by sadness at the loss of the baby he never had.

‘Oh, Richard!’ Camille pulled him into her arms, his head cradled once more into the crook of her neck. ‘You poor thing! Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say?’

Sobs wracked his body as he leant into her for support. He hated how weak he had become but in Camille arms, it felt okay. He was safe there, life wasn’t quite so difficult when she was nearby.

Letting himself bask in the warmth of her body pressed tightly against his own, the throb her heartbeat in his ear as it pressed against her neck and the soothing stroke of her hand against his back once more Richard decided to explain.

‘The Doctor said it was my hormones. Too long on suppressants and my system’s gone all out of whack. Need to **detox** for six months to let things settle before I can go on suppressants again.’

‘It’s okay Richard.’ Camille soothed. ‘I promise. It will all be okay.’

Camille grunted, almost falling as Richard exploded from her grasp. 

‘Okay? How will it be okay?’ He yelled, one arm flailing in mid-air the other scrubbing through his thinning hair. ‘I can’t go ten minutes without bawling my eyes out or needing to smash my fist at the wall. How am I supposed to work like this Camille? How do I function? I’ll be a laughingstock, everyone taking the piss and me being unable to stop them.’

He began to pace in the scant few feet of space between Camille and the end of the veranda, tugging on the short strands of hair at the back of his head.

‘And during an investigation? How am I supposed to question a suspect when my every instinct is telling me to get down on my knees and submit? The crime rate will go through the roof! I’ll get the sack. I’ll get sent home in disgrace!’

Camille stepped in front of him, causing him to stumble and almost fall. She gripped him by the elbows, dipping and twisting her head until he was looking at her once again.

‘Firstly, I assure you, it _will_ be okay. We can talk to Doctor Johnson and explain your concerns. There will be a way around this I’m certain. Second, I would like to remind you that when you had tropical fever last year Dwayne and Fidel managed to interview suspects _and_ collect scene of crime evidence without you telling them what to do. Fidel is a Sergeant now. Give him some credit, hmm?’

Richard looked down, embarrassed. He had a good team around him, people that, for the first time in his life, he felt he could trust. Camille was right. They could find a way through this mess. Together. 

This was just his hormones, playing havoc with him again. He needed to get a grip. To stop losing control.

‘And thirdly,’ Camille said, stepping in close until they were a hairsbreadth apart, ’You will _**never**_ get down on your knees and submit to a suspect because you have me.’ She growled. ‘I will make _sure_ you are safe Richard, and I will protect you. Always.’

He hugged her this time, pulling her close and burying his face into her neck as Camille nuzzled his scent gland in return. She didn’t bite but lipped over the swollen flesh as a mother might to reassure her young and he sighed.

He was safe here, he knew. And with Camille, he always would be.


	6. Epilogue

Six months later...

Richard was sat in Doctor Johnsons Waiting room, anxiously waiting for his blood test results. If all went according to plan, he would be able to resume his suppressants today and life might finally start to return to normal.

It had been a wild few months, but Camille had stuck by him through thick and thin. She had hugged him through the crying fits, let him shout and rant when his anger grew too much. She had seen him through two heats now, feeding him fruit and pastries between rounds of the most amazing sex he could ever imagine.

Three and a half months ago, after a long and open discussion, they had bonded, Camille’s teeth sinking into his neck to claim him as he did the same to her. His hormones settled quickly after that and he had felt surprisingly good these last few months.

But in the past week, he had started to get sick again, probably nerves surrounding his upcoming test. As he rubbed a hand over his griping stomach again the Doctors door opened, and he called Richard in.

It hadn’t been the news he was expecting, and Camille too was quite stunned when he told her over dinner that evening.

But not quite six months later, when Richard gave birth to twins, one girl and one boy, neither of them could be sorry for the change. As Richard looked down to the babes in his arms, with their dark curly hair and caramel skin, his own green eyes staring widely back at him he finally could believe.

Dreams really do come true.

THE END


End file.
